On Hiatus
by kidd01412
Summary: Okay, not so great on summaries so please bear with me. Everything was settling down into place as the girls were off to go on with their lives. And this should be the moment where you get the happy ending, right? They survived a kidnap, she was going to make her music, "she" was going to vet school. This was the moment. Or was it? (Takes place after 3rd film, details may differ)
1. Chapter 1

x any 1st person POV xx change in POV

x

This could have gone down worse. I could have actually gone through with the whole thing and THEN hear about…him. Yeah, I guess it could have gone worse. Actually, maybe it's better this way. No harm no foul, right? I mean who was I kidding, there was no fucking way that this was actually going to work out in anything but a heartbreak on my part.

Exhibit A, my heart plastered all over my bedroom floor.

After all those years of pining, you'd think you get to a point where these situations have minimal effect on you and you can strut through life as unfazed as ever. But life doesn't like working in the way people think it should.

And so, it hurts.  
Every. Single. Time.

And it's not like it doesn't hurt to see her any other day either. Every moment I'm left to my own accords and thinking of how she would never know chips away a new part of heart. I'm not sure how much more of that my heart could take. It's not like I haven't tried to never let it begin. I've pushed her away from the first time our eyes met because, those eyes. My god, those eyes. I knew they were trouble as soon as laying my own on them caused a several skipped heartbeats. But she had to come barging into the shower. And my fucking GOD. With all that oozing confidence to top it off.

And then her voice.

It's just impossible how perfect she is. And so naturally, I ended up joining something that was never in my books, acapella.

So, to be honest, I may have been sold then and there. But, it was probably just the physical attraction. I mean, LOOK at her. How can one not even sort of feel a tingling after an encounter with her? So, it was just physical attraction at first. Most likely. Possibly? I don't know. Anyway, the point is, I tried. I veered away from her during practice only to be held down from behind to practice the dance routine. I sought out Jesse to take my mind off things because boy, can the dude talk. Although all his talking did make me mentally mute him and just continued lingering thoughts on a certain redhead. So maybe, I wasn't trying so hard but, to be fair, I didn't know at the time. I was doing just fine with the unknown existence of, things. And then, I was already too late.

I blame Fat Amy and Stacie for all this. And Posen. As a matter of fact, all of them. Maybe not legacy. Maybe, I'm still deciding if she really is innocent—now that the Bellas have had a few years to taint her soul, she may have turned to the dark side. Why did they have to tell me that I have the, whatever, for her that it got me thinking about things that I shouldn't have consciously been thinking about. Subconscious thinking is totally fine, because I don't really know what I'm doing when I'm doing it! BUT, knowingly thinking about things that I do, or did, or was planning to do is, most definitely NOT FINE. It is the opposite of fine, it is un-fine, it is super uncool. It's ugh.

And then so things, stuff, feelings, had to get real and being a sneaky bastard, it had to creep up to my head for me to actually be conscious of things, stuff, feelings, whatever.

And as with all things regarding her, it was up and personal. It was everywhere. It was always there in my face, in my personal space, in my head. She snuck up and stole my heart, no, no. She outright walked right through all my gates and safeguards—all the alarms and locks—and simply grabbed it and then walked back out with it. I mean, who DOES that? I mean, I had all my guards up and I was being super shut-off and anti-social. The audacity of that girl. The hold that girl has on me. I swear to god, she will be the death of me. And that is how I will be remembered:

Conflicted soul, Beca Mitchell. Death at the hands of Chloe Beale. She took her heart.

After I was force-fed the information that I was "head over heels" in love with my best friend, as fate would have it, every day has been in agony. Why did they have to divulge this to me, oh I don't know, to see me shrivel up and DIE? That's what they want, they want me to see me squirm and squeal and be as uncomfortable as I can for punishing them with cardio and stuff. But don't they do enough of punishing me with the consistent movie nights? Which, by the way is not helping with my condition at all, seeing that I happen to be her designated cuddle buddy. Especially after tonight, I don't think I'll be making it to any of the movie nights.

I mean how stupid was I, going over, thinking that I had slimmer of a chance at getting the girl? I appeal to no one. Literally, no one. I'm short-tempered, I'm closed off, I shut people out when it gets uncomfortable, I take too long to return phone calls or texts, I hate physical activities, I hate movies, I can't cook, I am…

"Hopeless."

That's it. That's what I am. I am devoid of hope. I'm hopelessly stuck in a situation that has no exits apparently. It was one-way door to eternal heartbreak and someone's got me locked in with a key. I'm hopelessly lost in where I have to go from this point. I'm hopelessly ill-fitted to even consider applying for a position to be her "one." But I am hopeless and utterly in love with the girl. Only to find out that I am hopelessly out of luck.

Oh fuck.

"Beca? What happened in here?"

Shit. It's...

Oh okay, semi-shit. It's only Fat Amy.

xx

"Hey…" The peep of a response was all Fat Amy could go on to find her tiny DJ friend in the hot pile of mess of a room. She thought her room was a mess but, apparently some kind of mini shit storm roamed passed this room sending everything flying all over. But, still know sign of the brunette so she kicked the towel on the floor aside, sidestepping to avoid what seemed to be broken shards of glass? Even considering it was a suite, there really is nowhere else to hide so she should've have seen a lock of hair or something by now. But, alas, still no DJ. She was starting to get a little bit worried since she thinks she spotted blood on the floor but couldn't really tell.

"Beca?" She called out with a bit more volume this time, straining her ears to try to pinpoint where the voice might be coming from. A moment went by and no answer. As she was planning on shouting this time when, a weak whisper of a "…here" could be heard inside the bathroom. And of course, it had to be the one place that she hadn't searched yet. But in her defense, the bathroom didn't have the lights on so she didn't bother to check. And besides, it's kind of a breach of privacy to just barge in.

Fat Amy chuckled at what a certain redhead might have done in this situation as she made her way back to the bathroom she had passed on her way in to the bedroom portion of the suite. But instead of voicing out her thoughts, she steered to a conversation pertaining to the reason she had come up here in the first place. "Where'd you disappear to Shawshank? We were looking to celebrate your awesome performance. You crushed it! I know, I know, we had our moment on stage there but, you know youhaven't celebrated until you've tasted my…Beca?"

Any hint of amusement that lingered on Fat Amy's face fell, just as her heart did, upon opening the bathroom door.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so yeah. I didn't realize that the ending of this chapter may implicate that something really bad may have happened but it isn't...? I just needed an ending and this seemed like a good place...I mean if I could choose everything this would be labeled as romance/angst/humor/friendship so...yeah. Thanks for reading! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

x any 1st person POV xx change in POV

Any hint of amusement that lingered on Fat Amy's face fell, just as her heart did, upon opening the bathroom door.

"Be..ca?"

There was a pause. Fat Amy rarely did pauses or momentary ponderings or hesitations, she jumped straight and to the point. And yet, she found herself at a loss for words and thoughts, at the sight of her friend curled up inside the glass shower booth. Wet, defeated, lost, and so small. And Beca Mitchell did not _do_ small. She may be small in height but she is the Beca. Effin'. Mitchell. The _BIG_ BM and she adds an extra few inches to her tiny physique for being, just that. So, she does not do small or weak or… _this_. And that is why, Fat Amy could not—for the love of god—find the words right now. She needed to say something, I mean, it was her friend—best friend might she add—but, seeing her badass Shawshank like this, she had no words.

Thankfully though, her body seemed to know what it was doing when it barged into the shower booth and tugged the broken brunette into a tight embrace to let her know that Fat Amy was here. And no matter what it was, she was going to find a way to make it better. She may be unreliable at times but, she makes it up for the times that she's the first one ready to knock things out when things, actually do count.

"It's okay, it's alright, it's going to be fine. We're going to find a way. You're the big BM. And I'm the big Fat Amy. We saved our pitches and blew up a yacht together. We can do anything." She cooed unto the side of her friend's temple she caressing ever so gently. The slight leaning in of the brunette was not in the slightest a comfort but, she was going to take whatever she could get. And if that happened to be a weak sighing into her embrace, she was okay with that. At least for now.

And she didn't mind that her clothes were getting soaked by the water left over in the shower booth, which, the brunette seemed to have managed to turn off after getting herself drenched. What she did mind though, was the warm soaking on her shoulder—where the tiny DJ burrowed her head in. She couldn't help holding back her own pool of tears from shedding as she held onto her friend, the shivering and trembling of the DJ threatening to let them fall any moment. But, she swallowed it in. She had to know what was going on to have pushed the fragile figure in her arms to such a state.

Everything seemed to go along immaculately. Beca was going to make a name of herself, making her own music not just producing other people's things; the Bellas had their swan song; she had gotten rich beyond compare; Lily, no Ester, could speak at a normal volume; Flo had her juice truck franchise going on; Aubrey was letting herself free and may be becoming a doula; Cynthia Rose was joining the army; Stacey had her, their Bella to look after; Legacy was graduating; Jessica & Ashley were doing their thing; and Chloe was, going to Vet School.

And of course. Why didn't it hit her sooner? _Of course_ , it had to be.

Chloe.

It could only be something about her that would and could, push the brunette over to this mess. There was no other real explanation other than that. The only person who could have this much of an emotional impact on Beca was the redhead. Knowingly or unknowingly, she was usually the cause of all and any kind of emotional whirlpool in her best friend—ranging from goofy blissfulness to a broken wreck. And it was always a source of amusement amongst the other Bellas to watch the ever so fickle swirl of emotions of the brunette when she was around or talking about the redhead. But to find her in the state she is now? It was far from it.

But what she couldn't quite grasp is what would have caused this reaction from her loving friend? And of all moments, why now? What happened that was so different from her other encounters with the redhead that caused her to become this vulnerable? There were many more questions that came to her mind but, all in due time. Right now, the biggest problem was how to deal with _this_ Beca, now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After what seemed like hours sitting in the shower booth, Fat Amy decided it was time to get up and out as soon as she felt the brunette in her arms shivering. She looked down and saw how ghostly pale—even more so, than her normal hue—her skin had become and how her lips were purple. She mentally smacked herself to not having the sense to get the DJ out of her wet clothes immediately as soon as she saw her in the fugue state on the bathroom floor. But, she had been so wrapped up in trying to comfort her without disturbing her that she too, was not in a clear mental state. Although on afterthought, she should have at least covered the girl in a towel first.

Had Chloe been here, the first thing she would have done was to get the brunette out of her wet clothes into dry ones…But had Chloe been here, there may been a whole new set of other problems that came with all things Bhloe. However, seeing that this whole in-trance Beca seems to have been triggered by said redhead, maybe it was a good thing that Fat Amy lost the game and was sent to fetch Beca. Who knows what would have transpired? Yeah so, definitely a good thing Fat Amy found her.

"Come on now short stack, let's get you out of this." After pulling out a much calmer, but much colder Beca out of the shower booth, Fat Amy threw a large towel over her and led her to the bed to sit down. She was trying to get her tiny friend to rid of her wet clothes for a change of dry ones but, all she got was another sight of defeated eyes. Steely blue eyes a tinge on the darker side than she was accustomed to. No playful smirk resting on her lips. Enough to force her heart towards the floor again. _This_ , was definitely not her defiant short stack. And she had to get her back. Even if it was with a bit force.

x

She inhaled another needed breath before going about it again. "Beca, we need to get you out of this or I'm going to smack your tiny little ass. And it's not going to in the good way." None of what she said seemed to be registering to the brunette. She tried shaking her to no avail and repeating her words but, still got no response.

Brute force it is then. Was the thought Fat Amy had when her hand was already hanging over her head, ready to fall to its target: Beca Mitchell's fine little ass.

"Ow! ...Fat Amy? What the hell? Wha..? Huh? What are you doing here?" Ahh. And there she is. She actually enjoyed and was grateful for the full on BM scowl this time. "About time Shawshank," she said to the brunette who was still recovering from the sudden act of violence. But, it didn't take long for her to grasp what was going on and that, was when her eyes started darting around the room to avoid looking into the one's that were fixed on her. It didn't help that the blonde—predicting such a response—was holding her down. The DJ realized that she would have to face her ass-smacker/friend but she wasn't going to give in that easy. She was not that kind of gal. So the brunette tried with all she had in her to avert the situation. And boy, did she try—a solid 30 minutes.

But, alas. A physical encounter between Fat Amy and Beca Mitchell will always end with the Aussie claiming the win. And why would this time be any different?

"…why are you here Amy?" was the voice of defeat that crept out. "You needed me," was her simple answer. And that was enough for the brunette to relax into the blonde's embrace and let things go.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Getting dried up seemed to do what the water should've have done—bring her to her senses. "Where are the girls?" was the first things she asked. To which Amy had another simple answer, "Partying their asses off." She knew that wasn't really what the smaller girl wanted to know but didn't want to force her hand so she went along. "Why are you here then?" she tried again. "We needed the guest of honor, obviously. But we could stay here if you want. I'm sure Chloe and the girls won't mind."

A twitch. That was all Fat Amy needed to confirm what she already knew but, it was always good to double check things. So, it _was_ everything to do with the redhead, Fat Amy acknowledged internally. "…yeah, she wouldn't." The whispered response wasn't the blushing or denying she was expecting but, it was something. Beca was starting to crawl back into her shell and she needed to know why.

Today was awesome to say the least. Again, to recap: Beca crushed it, the Bellas got to join, she was rich, they all had their future set, she was rich—she felt it should be mentioned twice—and they were in France, it was awesome. Chloe was finally ready for the next step in her life. Beca should be being all supportive and whatnot. They saved the girls. And not to be redundant or anything but, literally blew up a yacht and stuff. Beca saved _her_ Chloe. And they didn't even need Zeke or Chicago's...It hit her then.

"…Chicago." Another flinch. And, her answer to all this. The redhead did seem cozy next to the hunky blue-eyed soldier before their own Bellas get together. It didn't seem to be much but maybe there was something she didn't know. And she isn't known for her subtlety. "What is it? Out with it now Beca." Again, with the averting eyes. When will she learn? "Do you want another beating? I can give you two more if you'd like that."

" _Jesus_ , Amy." Pause. "I'm going to give you 3 seconds." Because she needs to know, now.

"One." She could practically hear Beca's eyes darting around to establish an escape route and, failing. "Two." Now she could see Beca trying to calculate the probability of her leaving the room without being pummeled to the ground. "Three." Presently, she could feel the white flag coming.

"Okay…" with that, the brunette's head was rested on her shoulders.

"…him…" was all she could make out from the mumbling vibration. "What?" Another pause. Another deep breath. Again, the warm wetness on her shoulders. Then another deep breath.

"…I was going to tell her." And again, the brokenness. "I was going to tell her how I felt, how I feel…all the things, stuff, and whatever." Deep breath."I looked for her." More warmth on her shoulders. "And I did. I did find her…" Pause.

"She…she kissed _him._ "


	3. Chapter 3

x any 1st person POV xx change in POV xxxxxxxxxxxx change in situation

* * *

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Fat Amy didn't think much of it when she saw the bubbly redhead with their hunk of security detail. Sure, she's seen them talking to each other but didn't think there was much to be worried about—none of the girls did. They just figured Chloe was being Chloe and all up close and personal and making friends. And to be honest, she probably was. She was probably running off on adrenaline after their awesome show that she just grabbed onto the nearest living thing to spread the energy and love. Which, to everyone's dismay happened to be the wrong person to grab, especially in the presence of _the_ one person that shouldn't have seen it.

So, things could have been better. The overly loving ginger could have got a hold of the correct individual instead of a substitute or, the correct individual could have avoided that particular area at that time or, well, _anything_ but the event that transpired.

But, as life would have it, here they were.

She just wanted to bring down her friend to continue and escalate the party to another level yet, finds herself with arms wrapped around said friend. Her friend wanted to express her love for a certain redhead and probably wanted to escalate her own party to a certain expected level—simultaneously allowing Fat Amy and Stacie to collect their winnings from the other Bellas—however; is snuggly placed in a warm embrace. The other girls wanted to party it up and, probably are, unaware of her current situation. And the redhead…ehhhh.

Yeah, things could be better.

"Amy…?" a soft voice brought her out of her internal ramblings. She looked down to find her former captain playing with her hands. She hummed in response not wanting to break the train of thought her friend may be having. "What, what do I do?" Now there was a question she didn't have an answer to. "What do _you_ want to do?"

There was a pause and tight squeeze to her sides before a response came out of the brunette. "I…I have no idea. I mean, I have this new thing starting and they said I could stay in New York or I could move to LA. I don't know, I guess I kind of wanted to stay but now, I'm not so sure what I want to do. Should I stay? Why should I stay? Can I…handle everything? What do I do, Amy?" More questions she doesn't have great answers to but, when has the quality of her answers stopped her from giving her response? "Beca, Beca. Breathe. You're going to come back from this. If you want to stay, stay. If you want to move to LA, awesome, move to LA. Why you should stay, I wouldn't know. I may or may not have an idea why you would want to and why you wouldn't want to. I'm not going to say *cough*red*cough*ginger*cough* but, I might have an idea. And, you have an amazing best friend who'll move with you if you decide to go." With that she tugged her best friend in tighter into the embrace. There may have been a pained grunt but it probably wasn't anything significant.

"…is that best friend still you?" piped the tiny DJ. Fat Amy chose to ignore that comment/question and simply continued to hug her best friend to the brink of suffocation. Only when the brunette tapped her desperately did she let go. " _Jesus_ Amy. Why. _Why_ are you like this."

Sure, things didn't turn out the way people may have hoped it would have. But, it isn't anything they can't overcome. They're the _Bellas_. Life's got nothing on these pitches.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The morning that followed the day which had now been dubbed "Brooding Wet Beca day" by none other than Fat Amy, everything went by as normally as it could have been. Half-drunk Bellas dragged themselves for a breakfast and stuffed all of their belongings into their bags before heading out to the airport. Grunting and yawning all the way. And after an extremely hung-over—for most—plane ride back to respective dwellings, the Bellas were back to their normal routines, except for some minor deviations.

Or just one major one.

That involved the two individuals, at times, commonly and casually referred to as, Bhloe—only by Fat Amy. Well, it's actually just one of them who was causing the abnormal routine but, they are kind of a unit so if one of them did something, the other probably triggered it. Which, was true in this particular incident. One Beca Mitchell had been avoiding anything that went beyond short pleasantries with one Chloe Beale on grounds that she was busy with the new job or she was simply absent for any interactions until the middle of the night to return to their humble abode—just to leave at the brink of dawn.

At this point, the rest of the Bellas, minus one, were filled in with the information at what had happened back at Brokeabeca Castle. They were cahoots trying to come with a plan but, have yet to come up with one. Well, there was that one where they could, but that was shot down by aca-nazi and there was that other one where they would, but that was from Lily/Ester—even with the devil himself leaving, that girl was still a dangerous conundrum. So, Beca was stalling. And Chloe, even with her heightened perceptiveness of all things Beca, was thrown off with the brunette's new job that she was sure if it truly was the job or Beca avoiding her.

x

Okay, so maybe avoiding may not be the best of ideas when I live with the subject of avoidance. Needless to say, sleeping in the same bed was a bit of a problem that, sleeping in Fat Amy's bed was becoming a very tempting alternative—even if that meant I would be smacked at least five times during the night. Although the new job really did demand time with potential projects and whatnot, it didn't require staying later than 7pm. And now that I had some thoughts of what to do and was forced to share them the other day, they don't need me to come in anymore. Because apparently, they liked it and they needed time to gather people and things like that. I mean, who does that? You need time to think things over and stuff like that. You can't just decide it's good enough and I don't need to come in. I mean, it's cool or whatever but, now I need to stay home. And it isn't like I have a lot places to hide there. Seriously, we don't have a door for the bathroom. The toilet is next to the bed with no walls around it, the bathtub is next to the kitchen, equally without walls around it—just a shower curtain.

So, yes. 6am sitting on a bench in the park bench is what my life has come down to. Sure, I could've stayed in bed pretending to sleep until Chloe leaves but, she knows me like a book and will know I am not asleep and drag me out to eat something and talk to her while she gets ready. Because that's what we did. That was a thing we did.

"Beca?"

Oh shit.

Why did I not remember Chloe being Chloe and all tone-armed and all confident and all that actually does something productive with her mornings? Oh god, oh god. Hide Beca, hide. Duck behind the bench or something. Oh no, she already knows I'm sitting here, or she knows that someone who looks like me is sitting here so that would be a bad move. So, umm. Oh, I can just pretend I'm listening to something and not here her because I actually had the brains to plug in earphones just in case I wanted to listen to something. Yeah, okay so that might work. But knowing her, she'll be coming over to confirm her suspicions.

Shit. What do I do? I could, uh… I could, fuck.

Okay Mitchell, calm down. Breathe. When does Chloe leave you alone. Well, she, huh. She never does, does she. So, scratch that. When does she not talk to you? Uh…sleeping? No, you've heard her in your partially-awake state before so, no. Work? Yes! Yes, she doesn't leave you alone but she doesn't talk to you when you're working so, pretend your making something or writing several emails or things like that. I am so glad I brought my laptop right now I could just ugh. She's sitting down next to me isn't she. Oh shit, I think I see her in my peripheral vision. Yup, definitely a redhead sitting next to me. And I was right. She does not make me talk when I'm working but does not leave me alone.

"So, you probably can't hear me now. You probably don't even know I'm sitting here. But I've missed this. I missed my Beca time. I know you're busy. I mean, _you're_ working at 6am and you need all the sleep you can get. I don't want to be sound unsupportive or anything like that because, oh my gosh, I am so proud of you. But, I don't know, I just want my cuddle buddy back." Okay, so _that_ isn't going to make me feel anymore guilty than I already am. I mean, I haven't meant to avoid that much but I can't even look at her without clenching my chest which will bring out the questions from both parties that I'm not ready to answer or hear. Should I pretend to have just noticed her and say something? I should, right? Oh nope, she's leaving. Crisis averted.

"I miss you, Beca." Dang it. That voice. And with that heart-fluttering comment, she left as gingerly as she had arrived. I know, I didn't acknowledge that she was even there but, now I kind of miss her. She used to sneak up on me making mixes and would just watch me until I was done, nearly giving me a heart attack when I would turn around after finishing things up. I kind of wish she would be here when I'm actually done with sorting all my shit out.

"I miss you too."


	4. Chapter 4

I had planned to come back earlier but...life, more specifically finals kind of got in the way :(. Hope everybody who had them did well on all of their's! Well so, since I've been away for longer than I expected and might not be able to come back as quickly as I did for 1,2,3, I tried to make it longer?

And thanks to all those who took the time to read this! And another thanks to those who followed it and favorited it!

Well, here goes!

x any 1st person POV xx change in POV xxxxxxxxxxxx change in situation (is this confusing should I just stick to one thing and explain the change?)

* * *

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Chloe, what is it that you want to do?" Aubrey's voice seemed uncharacteristically—as opposed to when she was usually conversing with the redhead—pointed and edged, seemingly irritated at her best friend. Her profile confirmed this when her eyebrows were furrowed and eyes slightly glaring. The redhead was had her back completely to the door but the slumped shoulders and head seemingly leaning against the palms of her hands indicated a sign of distress. She had yet to reply but judging by her hair tucking—something she does before answering a difficult question— "I know Beca has feelings for me but,"

And that was all Beca wanted to hear of that conversation so she left without leaving a trace that she had been there in the first place. But that was just it. That was all Beca _wanted_ to hear, what she didn't know was she _needed_ to hear the rest to what know she wanted to know.

x

BECA'S POV

Seriously? She knew? She _knew_ and did and said, _nothing_?

I mean, if she felt the same way, she would have done something right? Knowing her, she would have come barging in my shower the moment she found out that I had feelings for her, that I love her! And yet, she _chose_ to stay put. Hoping what? That I wouldn't have the guts to say what I feel? Hoping that I would never act on it and we can just remain friends? Is that what she thought? She probably wishes that I never found out about them lest she had to turn me down. And being her best friend and all, she didn't know how to do that. So, she chose to not know about it. And she said so herself: "but." Those never end in the favor of those who want it to be favorable to them. It means, rejection. It means, they love you but not in the way you want them to love you. It means, they want to be friends. It means, it doesn't mean anything. It means, "I...I need to leave. I have to leave."

I can't. I can't deal with this right now. I can't do this, and, I just can't do this and do anything else.

I _have_ to leave.

"Amy?"

That's what I'm good at. What I'm good for. Leaving.

xx

"What do you mean, you have to leave? Where are you going to go? I mean, you're suppose to be working from here anyway, where are planning to go? What are you going to do? Beca, have you _really_ thought this through? You can't just avoid her, you know. You have to talk at some point." Stacie was trying to keep her cool but the fidgety DJ was slowly starting to get on her nerves. She hated when the tiny brunette got in one her moods. It was hard to get her to listen to anything anyone says, except the one person who couldn't do, just that. After, getting an incoherent desperate call—that consisted something along the lines of a tamed kangaroo trying to make a run for it back to the wild with Beca's name inserted here and there—from Fat Amy, she got a cab straightaway with Bella in her arms who was currently situated snugly in Fat Amy's arms as the blonde cooed away. Still trying to pack anything and everything she thinks she may need into a giant luggage, Beca avoided her questions. Stacie was really ready to snap at any minute even at the risk of making her baby cry from the outburst. "Beca," "Hmm?" Yup, that should be the last of her straws now. She took in a deep breath before she proceeded.

"BECA MITCHELL!"

With that, she took the opportunity to pin the temporarily stunned DJ into an armchair and sit on the coffee table facing her. The smaller brunette still in shock stayed put much to Stacie's delight. And thankfully, baby Bella, seemed to be unfazed by her mother's sudden shouting and remained as blissful as ever—though her current caretaker seemed to be in shock, since she didn't drop her baby, Stacie chose to ignore her for the time being. And as Beca was coming to her senses and about to stand up again, Stacie stared her back down into her seat. The smaller brunette's eyes darted side to side to avoid the glare that once got her to openly join in to sing a Miley Cyrus song in front of the Bellas. But Stacie was PT trainer and Beca hated exercise so, when Stacie's strong grip steadied her down and fixed her eyes to face forward cupping her cheeks with one hand? She was no match for the leggy brunette. So, assessing the situation quickly, she slumped further down into the couch—admitting defeat. And with that, Stacie let her go, knowing she wouldn't try it a second time.

"Atta girl." Stacie smirked as the DJ huffed her attempt at defiance. "Why do you have to leave?" She asked once more when Beca calmed down a bit. The smaller brunette's eyes shot down at the question and it seemed like her fingernails became extremely interesting to look at. So, Stacie simply took one those hands and took it in one of her own to stop the fussing and asked again, "Why do you have to leave, now?" And before the DJ could look away she took her free hand to gentle turn the defiant cheek to face her and looked into her eyes. She was met with wavering steely blue eyes that seemed, vulnerable. At that, her features softened to a weak smile and asked once more, knowing third times is indeed the charm,

"Beca. Why do you have to leave, **_now_**?"

There was a moment's pause, with the closing of those poignant eyes, a silent heaving in of the air and an equally slow letting out of a sigh. Then, as the deep blue eyes, even if uncertain, looked straight into hers, "I just have to leave here." And Stacie knew her well enough to know that now—with the start of one answer—Beca was going to answer all her questions without needing to push again. So, she waits. As her friend collects her thoughts and pieces the correct words to say, Stacie simply smiles and waits.

After several moments of shutting and opening of eyelids, a few grunts here and there due to the frustration of trying to get the right words to convey her meanings, "I _know_ I'm going to be working from here but, it's just…I can't be here, Stace. With _her_ , here, living _with_ me. I just can't go through that right now. I, I don't know where, yet. But I just know I have to go. It…It, hurts. So…bad. I just can't. Not, not right now, at least. I promise I won't do something stupid or anything. But, I just need to leave. Now. Before she gets back. So…now?"

xx

She should have been more careful.

She had been meticulous over the past 3 weeks in coming and going to collect her things. And for the most part, she had all that she needed for the time being and would have been fine for a couple of weeks, even a few months without having to come back. Or, she could ask Fat Amy to fetch somethings here and there. But she needed that USB, right now. And even if Fat Amy were to get her, her things, even _she_ didn't know where the USB was so, she couldn't really ask her to look for it. And of course, she just _had_ to forget it when she was packing her things the first time 'round. So, if she couldn't be smart enough to bring it with her that first day, she should have been more careful coming back.

Even more so, now that it had been 3 weeks and Chloe started to notice her things were missing and had caught on to her avoiding tactics. She should have known that the redhead, persistent as ever, would be trying to get a hold of her. Maybe Stacie knew that she would be there and wanted them to at least talk about something, anything. Or maybe not. Who knows. But whatever it was, it all comes down to her in the end. She should have been prepared and more careful about this. She should have been ready to bolt out the door when she heard so much as a peep. Or she should have stayed absolutely still under the bed until the redhead fell asleep or left, or something. She just should have.

Instead of getting stuck in this situation. She knows its irrational of her but, what can you say. She wasn't exactly in the right state of mind these days. With the redhead popping at undesired moments roaming free in her head, trying to avoid everybody—and avoiding all the bellas is not a simple task. She _knows_ that running would probably make the situation worse than it already was but, she couldn't care less. Not right now anyway. She just thought that there would have been more time for her to figure out the right words and had her emotions checked, to a certain degree of calm, that she could explain her intentions and thoughts more clearly. Never did she want to do this. Not something in the heat of the moment when her things, stuff, thoughts, feelings, were erratic and all over the place. Not when she knows that any sense of rationality and calm left in her will fly out the window as soon as she is confronted by Chloe.

Her personal madness and anchor.

Because only _she_ could drive her to the brink of insanity, all the while keeping her grounded. It doesn't make sense. It never makes sense. Because everything that is Chloe Beale, is never simple. Never predictable. Even when Beca was oblivious and thus, by default, able to keep her emotions in check, she was never absolutely sure what she would say. So how, when she is fully aware and thus, not even in the slightest able to suppress any of it, would she know what would come out of her mind? It was matter of time before she had to let something out. All the bubbling and boiling over can't be contained any longer.

"I don't know Chloe! I just," She stops midway as she opens her eyes to see the beautiful redhead on the verge of tears and she doesn't know how long she can take this without wanting to breakdown into tears herself and tell her everything and get things over with. Get the water under the bridge or whatever. But, she also knows that the redhead knows everything but doesn't want her to say anything—from what she overheard 3 weeks ago—so she needs the time off. At least to calm down and maybe dial down the feelings a bit. Some distance between them should do the trick, right? I mean, seeing that some time away, has at least gotten her to speak with the redhead should be an indication of it working. But before Beca could regain her thoughts and continue to make her point, Chloe shot back with a rather pointed, "You just what? Are you just going to walk away from your problems? Is that what you're going to do? Again, Beca?" That was a pretty poignant jab but, this time…

This time it was different. She **_had_** to go away to be able to come back to her in any form. It was for her, she had to know.

Beca let out a sigh and tried to calm down before she could speak again. She wouldn't be able to say anything if she had a glimpse of the redhead's mesmerizing blue eyes. She just _knew_ that she wouldn't be able to so, she kept hers shut.

What eventually did come out sounded more defeated than she was hoping for but she was, in fact, a little tired from all the emotions. She didn't have the energy to strengthen her voice. Even if it was, for her redhead.

"I just, need to take a hiatus."

That was all she could get out before she was cut off with a "from what?" It was equally soft and nearly as defeated but, it was most definitely not a question that came from herself. And upon hearing the soft vulnerable tone of the question, she almost, _almost_ , opened her eyes to meet the—she's sure—expecting ones but she kept them tightly shut. Yet another sigh was let out from her lips and as she spoke the reason, her eyes remained closed. The words that would most definitely place hurt in those baby blue eyes; and the words that will, in turn, irrevocably hurt her as well.

"…you."

If silence could be heard, then in that moment, it was the loudest you would've have ever heard it. The piercing silence was almost unbearable and impossible to not cringe at the sound of it. You could hear everything and yet, hear nothing.

And the deafening silence was beckoning for an answer. An explanation for why it had to be. Why she _had_ to leave.

"I need…I need to take a hiatus on all things regarding you, Chloe. I just, I just can't. Not anymore. At least…not for a while."

She could practically hear the hurt in her ears. From the small step taken backwards, the slight hitch in _her_ breath. Even with her eyes closed she could see the tears swelling up in _her_ eyes, legs struggling to stand their ground, hand on _her_ mouth the other wrapped around _her_ waist, and again those eyes, with hurt written all over. On the brink of breaking down already, and before she accidentally catches those eyes, the shaking brunette quickly grabbed what she came for and rushed out the door. Leaving the devastated redhead, only to run into the stairwell to break down in her own long suppressed tears. She stayed almost an hour crying before Stacie called to see what was up.

"…stace." She croaked out before having a chance to clear her throat. But she wasn't in the state of mind to care what Stacie would think or guess what happened. She wanted to hug the redhead, so bad. Even if it was one of those small, pat on the back type, ones but, she knew she wouldn't have it in her to leave if she came into contact with any part of the redhead. And if Chloe had grabbed her wrist as she made her way out the door, she would have stayed. There was no doubt about that. She would have done whatever Chloe wanted her to do. So yeah, she didn't give shit about how her voice might sound. Besides, it was Stacie. She knows things anyway.

"…where are you?" Like she said, Stacie knows things. She knows things and doesn't ask unless it's really necessary and in the interest of both parties—even if one party doesn't know yet. "…stairwell." And the call ended. A small sigh may have made its way across the speaker before the end tone but Beca neither cared or had the time to wonder if she actually heard a sigh. Because within a minute of hanging up, she found herself embraced in gentle cradling arms. And that was all she cared about.

There may have been a few tenants who may or may not have happened upon the two but, one stern glare from Stacie did the trick. They stayed like that for another hour or so before, Stacie practically had to carry her friend down the stairs and into the car.

It was going to be a long road ahead for everybody.


End file.
